


down the drains

by xoxo_theseburdens



Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series)
Genre: Assisted Suicide, Brutal Murder, Despair, Flirting, Gambling, Gen, Homoeroticism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Insanity, POV Multiple, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Poetry, Post-Who Killed Markiplier?, Toxic friendship, Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel Needs a Hug, slightly based around the new video
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29926884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxo_theseburdens/pseuds/xoxo_theseburdens
Summary: three short poetry recollections of wkm characters
Relationships: Benjamin | The Butler & Actor Mark (Who Killed Markiplier?), Damien | The Mayor & Actor Mark & Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel, Damien | The Mayor & Wilford Warfstache | William J. Barnum | The Colonel
Kudos: 1





	1. actor mark

strewn along the floor,

eyes an empty brown,

a friend - an enemy - a common man lays drowned.

he knew the price of his misdeeds,

led the burden of love,

for he desired no more pain,

so he reconciled with the butler -- their friendship in vain.

this man once bold and brash,

sank into a dark depression,

lips moving - laughter heavy,

why couldn't anyone set him free?

with a burning scowl,

heart jittery and immense,

he nodded to his butler and took a sip of wine,

brain finally at rest.

a world-renowned actor striped of his rights,

no more parties and no obscene fights,

just a man in his lonesome downing a drink,

pitifully accepting his strongest defeat.


	2. damien | the mayor

recompose as a friend,

the second dearest in his heart,

recollect of hours draining the stars.

he was a victim just as the others had been,

cursed as soon as they were stepping toe through that door,

cheerfulness and quite too-friendly touches,

sizzled down to bordering eruptions.

his words tore down one,

until there was only a strand,

oh dear coronel -- an endearing man,

how he dwelled on the future which nothing still stands.

might have he not accepted that invitation,

stayed silently in his office,

there could have been a chance,

where he did not fucking beg.

celine his most trusted,

pretty in her thoughts,

fortifying those momentous lies,

this man loved her all the same.

if only it wasn't life or death,

nor a guessing game,

no shadows of the actor,

looming by his bedside table.

return to the mirror,

return the torn pieces,

a man in denial is sure to fix this,

can he fix this?


	3. wilford | the coronel

as of lately he seems to fuck up everything,

hiding behind machines masking his troubles,

pulling the trigger -- ending the poor da.

he had started a wealthy guy,

riches never blinding him by evil,

though there was a fault line starting to crumble,

murder ensued in his quaint little bubble.

a man on a mission they used to say,

fingers wrapped around bullet shells,

the mind of a journalist belittled with pride,

sleeping with the actor's wife.

at a party old friends gather,

playing poker -- chips glaring on the table,

cards in hand,

aces flushed down the drain.

in the morning everyone gathers,

body wasting on the floor,

the coronel seeks to find the killer,

if he only looked in the mirror.

damien's cane in hand,

blood garnished on his clothes,

tears spilling down his cheeks,

cold hindering his bones.

an animatronic wastes away on a chair,

eyes lighting up blue,

every question asked pokes a rhetorical hole,

potato salad.

wilford programs it to have his thoughts,

even those corrupted,

as the poor animatronic wastes away -- one question still remains,

_was it his fault?_


End file.
